Flying off the edge
by soaring freedom
Summary: Based on the prompt: 2.21 AU. Sam dies but doesn't moves on; can't without his brother. He is left lost, confused, unable to remember what happened. And why won't Dean talk to him? One-shot for now.


**Flying Off The Edge**

Roaming through this darkness

I'm alive but I'm alone

Part of me is fighting this

But part of me is gone

* * *

Dark, empty and freezing.

Sam doesn't remember when he started to feel this way, but now it's the only thing he knows. Sometimes when looks at Dean he can imagine a he feels warmth, a slight breeze of affection that starts deep in his chest and starts to spread towards his lungs, but that is as far as it goes, because that's when he notices something wrong with his brother, something terribly incurably wrong.

And then it's back to the darkness again.

Sometimes Sam would lack the courage to ask Dean what is wrong; sometimes he would lack the strength. But other times he has both and so he asks.

But Dean doesn't answer, he never does.

'What is wrong? What is wrong? What is wrong?' he shouts until his throat is sore and he is sure that the wind will carry his echoes for years to come. But still Dean doesn't answer. And then he is tired again, like he always is recently and he feels like he is both drifting away with nothing to hold him down, and like he is drowning in a sea of nothings and shadows.

Sam doesn't know what happened. What lead him – the both of them – down this path, and the more he tries to remember the more he seems to forget, until he reached the point where he doesn't know if he should keep trying or if he should just give up.

He knows that something is terribly wrong with him too, it's not just Dean. He can barely stay awake for more than a couple of hours, and when he does, he is so confused and disoriented he spends most of the time trying to distinguish left from right, trying to recognize where he is.

But then he sees Dean and he knows that he is home, and the world that was spinning around only moments before fades into focus.

He almost opens his mouth to ask Dean what is wrong with him, but then he sees the look on Dean's face – he had never saw Dean look like this before and he never wants to see it again – so he asks what is wrong with Dean instead, because surely Sam's pain pales in comparison to his.

But Dean doesn't answer.

Sam figures that Dean doesn't want to answer him; he always hated chick flick moments. That's why after a while he stops asking. 'Dean will talk about when he is ready' he thinks to himself. So instead he talks, at first he talks about random stuff, about things going on around them that are only ever in focus when Dean is around.

He talks about the kids playing in the park, the guy walking his dog, the couple fighting down the street, the girl scouts selling cookies and about everything and anything else he sees or crosses his mind.

But Dean never talks back and never looks at him.

Sometime he would feel that inky blank darkness swallowing him again, and when he opens his eyes again he would find himself somewhere else altogether. At first it used to scare him, but then he notices that wherever he goes Dean is always there, and as long as Dean is there then everything will be fine, because Dean will take care of everything he always does.

After a while he starts talking about their memories together, the first time at the beach, the 4th of July where they burned a field down, that Christmas all those years ago when he gave Dean the amulet and running around Bobby's yard.

But Dean never talks back, and never acknowledges him.

And then Sam is back to asking 'What is wrong? What is wrong? What is wrong?' till he can't move his lips anymore and he is sure that the people the next state over heard him loud and clear.

But Dean doesn't answer.

'Dean, please forgive me, I am sorry, so sorry' He says one day out of the blue, because he is sick figuratively and literally.

He can't take it anymore, the silence, the confusion, the feeling of hollowness that lodged itself in his chest and won't let go. He is tired of hearing himself talk and sometimes he isn't sure if he can actually hear himself, or if it's just the reverberations of the void inside of him.

Something is wrong with him, he can't remember what happened, he has blank spots in his memory, he feels tired all the time, and he can barely stay awake, this all leads him to believe that he is sick. And it must have been his fault too, that's why Dean isn't talking to him.

He remembers when he was seven, he played in the rain when Dean told him not to, and caught the flu. He had to stay in bed for a week and Dean wouldn't talk to him for the first couple of days, because he was angry with Sam for not listening to him and more importantly for not taking care of himself. Dean is all about tough love.

So he must have gotten himself in this situation somehow, he probably did something very foolhardy and reckless because even back then, Dean still tucked him into bed, made him tomato soup and read him stories. Sam remembers however that it took him two days to get Dean to talk to him again, and he only did after Sam apologized and promised that he won't do it again.

So now he fills the air with a litany of 'I am sorry, I won't do it again, please, I promise, I am sorry." He repeats it like a chant until the words sound foreign on his tongue and his tired lungs just give up trying to push air past his abused throat.

But Dean doesn't answer his pleas and he can't honestly say he hadn't expected it.

He just gives up for a while after that. The darkness that used to drown him so frequently barely does so anymore, and he finds himself sometimes wishing for its sweet release. Instead he just closes his eyes and pretends the world doesn't exist which turns out to be easier than it should have been.

Most of the time however he drifts on the edge of awareness, too tired to wake up fully and never able to enter the realm of dreams.

He hasn't had any contact with any people in what feels like a long while; he hadn't noticed that fact until one day he opened his eyes to find himself staring at Bobby's face, And that's when he remembers that there are other people in the universe aside from him and his brother.

He really should talk to other people, it not healthy. Except that when his brother is around he can't think of other people, they all kinda fade to the background. Like Dean is in HD resolution and the rest of the world is black and white.

Except for Bobby, Bobby is in color too. And even though Dean is as pale as a ghost his colors are ten times more vibrant than that of Bobby's.

Dean and Bobby are talking he notices belatedly, but he can't understand what they are saying. It's not that they are speaking in another language because Sam can understand each word separately. He just can't understand them put in that order, like someone took a meaningful sentence and just jumbled all the words.

But it really doesn't matter to Sam it's not like he wants to understand anyway, he is just happy to hear his brother's voice. His voice is like a calming balm to Sam wounds, wounds that Sam didn't even know were there.

Why can't Dean talk to him just once? He wants to hear his brother calling his name, calling him _Sammy_.

Silence fills the room, he can't hear Dean talking anymore. He looks up to find Dean standing with a look of fury plastered on his face, evidently whatever Bobby said angered Dean. Sam felt a bang of worry in his chest but he had no time to dwell on it, because Dean was moving hurriedly across the room heading for the door and he had to follow.

Sam expected Bobby to come after Dean, he also expected Dean to run straight for the impala and get the hell out of here, but neither of those stuff happened. Instead Dean went to the scrap yard and walked between the old broken cars.

Usually by this time Sam would have closed his eyes and just let the world slip from beneath his feet, except he had just heard Dean's voice for the first time since what Sam was sure is forever. And an old fire rekindled in Sam's heart, he will get Dean to talk to him even if that is the last thing he does.

So he starts saying 'Dean, Dean, Dean.' And this time he is determined not to give up, he will only stop when Dean answers him.

Dean stops in a clearing; they are surrounded from all directions by towering stacks of rusted cars, reaching for the stars like a cheap parody of skyscrapers. But that is not what Sam is thinking about, because right in the center of the clearing there stands the Impala in all of its glory.

Unlike all the other cars in the yard the Impala looks like it had just been waxed this morning, and with the light of the full moon shining on her hood she looks as majestic as she can be, more importantly she looks like home. And Sam only now realizes how much he missed her, missed sitting shotgun while listening to dean singing off-key Metallica.

Dean approaches the car almost reverently and passes his hand over her hood and Sam can see Dean's lip form the word 'baby' this action is so familiar it almost brings tears to Sam's eye.

After a second Dean keeps walking forward and Sam follows. Until they reach the end of the yard but Dean doesn't stop moving and he enters the small woods on the edge of the yard.

They walk for what seems like forever with Sam keeping his mantra of 'Dean, Dean, Dean.' never letting up, not once. And then Dean stops so suddenly Sam falters in his words, He takes a deep breath ready to start again when he hears it.

Small, weak and broken but still there nonetheless. "Sammy I am so sorry."

And Sam almost jumps with joy, "It doesn't matter Dean, I am sure you had pretty good reasons." He won't ever never bring this up again, he is ready to just forget all that happened and bury it in the past. It doesn't matter why Dean ignored him for so long; the important thing is he isn't doing so anymore.

Except Dean doesn't look consoled by his words, in fact he looks worse for wear, much worse for wear, "I am sorry, Sammy. I should…It was…I am so so so sorry." And Sam is horrified to see tears shining in Dean's eyes, and then he collapses into his knees.

Sam runs towards Dean quickly and kneels beside him on the dirt, "Come on Dean don't make such a big deal out of it. I am not even angry anymore, see. I forgive you so there is nothing for you to be sorry about right?" Sam had waited so long for this moment, and he just wishes things would go back the way they were.

The film of tears in Dean's eyes start streaming down his face "Dean it's alright, everything will be fine. Just look at me, talk to me, and tell me what is wrong?"

But like all the times before it when Sam asked that question Dean doesn't answer, and a horrible sinking feeling forms in Sam's stomach.

"Dean, Dean" he calls, but Dean doesn't react to him at all, he just swipes at his face angrily with his hand and new tears replace the old ones.

"Dean, Dean." He says brokenly, "Just please talk to me, look at me, Dean." He begs. He doesn't understand what is happening, he thought Dean had finally decided to forgive him, but now he doesn't want to talk to Sam again. What did he do wrong?

Dean plays with hem of his shirt for a moment before he removes something, and when the moon shines on it Sam recognize the amulet. "No, no. Dean what are you doing?"

But Dean isn't looking at him instead he is staring at the ground, "I thought I would keep this as a token, something to remember you by. But….But I don't deserve it, not anymore. I am sorry. I know you would be pissed if you could see me now, but I just can't." Dean's voice sounds a bit more composed now but it is still broken.

And then dean dug a slight hole in the ground and buried the amulet there, while Sam watched him appalled. "You will take care of it till I join you, right?" questioned Dean softly, finally looking up from the ground with tears still gleaming in his eyes. He reached a hand out and touched something right on front of him, that Sam could swear wasn't there a moment earlier.

Sam shifted slightly, and then the moon light shone down on a grave with only one word written on it.

SAMMY

And the world around Sam shattered into a million tiny pieces.

"DEAN, WHAT IS THAT?"

"DEAN, ANSWER ME."

"Tell me it's not true; tell me there is something wrong."

"DEAN?"

But Dean didn't answer, he never did and he never will.

* * *

I read the prompt a while ago and suddenly i had a sudden urge to write it.  
It's about 4 a.m from where i am from, so you will probably find a few (a lot) of mistakes, and English isn't actually my first language.

Feel free to point out any mistakes or the like and i will do my best to change them.

And last but not least, hope you enjoyed the ride, have a nice day, and don't forget to review.


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